


A Matter of Some Urgency (Version)

by Navigatrix



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navigatrix/pseuds/Navigatrix
Summary: Because my brain is Like That, I dashed off another version of the first meeting of our disaster pirates, this time from Hope’s perspective.  As always, gratitude to @ifinkufreaky. This is an alternate prequel to her amazing Heart of Admiration series.
Relationships: Charles Vane/Original Character(s), Charles Vane/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	A Matter of Some Urgency (Version)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Heart of Admiration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341695) by [ifinkufreaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/ifinkufreaky). 



Hope Wickham pauses outside the tavern. She is not fully convinced that she’ll be able to save the lives of her crewmates. For that matter, she is not entirely certain she’ll leave this meeting with her own life, but she has to try. To her shock, her crew elected her quartermaster, a position to which she had most certainly not nominated herself, and now it’s her duty to protect them as best she can.

When she asked her old friend DeGroot to set up an urgent meeting with the captain of the _Ranger,_ the man had made a wry face. “Ready to move on from Fisher, are you? Find work with a captain who has true technical sailing skill?” She shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to let on her real purpose but not willing to lie to him. DeGroot, she knows from her apprenticeship, is not one to give compliments easily or falsely. “True technical sailing skill” is as ringing an endorsement as anyone could ask for.

“What manner of man is Captain Vane?”

DeGroot looked thoughtful. “I’m sure you’ve heard his reputation as a brute and a brawler, and it’s well-deserved, but he keeps his word. Sailed with Teach for years. Respects skill. Deals fairly with those who deal fairly with him. You wouldn’t be the only woman on his crew.”

He returned shortly after with the message to meet Vane at the tavern, as soon as she could get there. And so there was nothing for it but to trust DeGroot’s assessment of the man, square her shoulders, and try to make an entrance to remember.

Years on the account had taught Hope that dealing with other pirates as a small-boned woman requires a certain amount of swaggering bravado. She flings open the tavern door, cocks one hip out, and stands there for a moment, silhouetted, as she scans the room for a man matching the description DeGroot had given her. Ah, there he is, watching her approach his table in an alcove at the rear of the room. She feels an unexpected jolt in her stomach as she locks eyes with him, but this wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to ignore her nerves, would it.

"Captain Vane?" 

He nods, and she continues. "I'm quartermaster of the _Starling_. I believe you're expecting me." She removes the pistol and long knife from her belt and places them on the table in front of him, a sign that she has come in peace. 

He gestures for her to sit across from him and signals the barmaid to bring her a drink then gives her a hard look from beneath his brow. "What's this about?" He could sand the deck with his voice, she thinks, but it isn’t unpleasant to the ear.

"A certain item of yours has come into my possession. I'm here to return it to you." She hands him a burlap sack containing his black. She had been appalled when a couple of the more rambunctious members of her crew came back to camp having stolen it from the _Ranger_. It wouldn't do for them, new to Nassau, to start their time here by making an enemy of the most notoriously violent captain on the island.

Vane looks inside the sack to examine his colors. Hope had ensured it wasn’t damaged, and she had folded it carefully. When he comes to that conclusion as well, he turns that heavy gaze back to her. "What do they call you, quartermaster of the _Starling_?"

She meets his piercing stare with her own, unflinching. "They probably call me a lot of things when I can't hear them." She is sure she sees him suppress a smile at that. So the man has a sense of humor beneath that steely demeanor. Good. She holds out her hand for a shake. "Hope Wickham."

"Why did your captain send you, Miss Wickham, instead of approaching me himself?"

She frowns, but doesn't rise to the bait. "He didn't send me," she says coolly. "He has no idea any of this happened. I'm meeting with you of my own accord and in my own capacity to try to protect my crew."

Vane’s silence as he sips his ale has a pointed quality to it. He’s waiting for her to elaborate.

"I may be new to Nassau, but I'm by no means new to the account. Captain Fisher and the rest of the crew are used to doing things a certain way, and don't yet understand that Nassau has rather different understandings of acceptable behavior for those under the black than does Tortuga. On Tortuga, this would be seen as a prank by a new crew seeking to position itself and a score easily settled without much bloodshed. Unlike them, I know that is not the way of things here."

Vane narrows his eyes. "How do you know how we do things here?" 

"I apprenticed with Mr. DeGroot. We stay in touch." The corners of her mouth turn up in a wry smile, unable to contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "I realize that he is nobody's first, second, or tenth choice for a tutor in etiquette, but," she gestures broadly, "we live in a world of wonders."

She’s gratified to see Vane smiling back at her, ever so slightly. It changes his entire face, and she can almost imagine that they are having a friendly drink together. "So you're a trained navigator, then?"

"I am."

He also seems to remember that this is not a social call. The smile drops from his face, which returns to its forbidding scowl, and he hunches forward enough to give the impression of looming over her without getting up. For a moment she wonders if he’s going to lunge across the table and attack her. "Members of _your_ crew snuck onto my ship, stole my black, and they did it so badly that someone saw them getting away. So let me tell you what happens next."

Hope has learned to never, ever show fear when facing down a man, so she doesn't quail from his ferocious growl, from his coiled posture that makes him appear to be a predator about to pounce. Only long practice allows her to meet his icy glare directly. "Who saw them?"

"My quartermaster and his matelotage." Is he taken aback by the question? He’s clearly a man used to being obeyed. Yet he answered her...

She tilts her head, considering. "Anyone else?"

Vane grunts and leans back in his chair. "No."

Hope nods to herself. "Can you trust their discretion?"

"With my life." She sees him follow the course she’s plotted with her questions. "You're going to ask who else on my crew knows it was gone."

She shrugs as if to say _you caught me_. "Well, who else does?"

"Only them." She opens her mouth to speak but he cuts her off. "Regardless, you know I cannot let your crew's insult go unanswered. I’ve a reputation to maintain, a captaincy I do not intend to lose."

"Nor do I expect you to. However, by returning your black undamaged, along with compensation for the," she pauses and bites her lip, considering her next words, "inconvenience you've been put through by this unfortunate breach of propriety, I trust this need not be a killing offense." She takes a bulging coin purse from her coat pocket and pushes it across the table to him.

Vane opens it and quirks a scarred brow at the amount of coin within. "Is this from the _Starling'_ s collective savings?"

"No. It's my personal share from our last prize." It had been a lucky take, that last prize, larger than most of the _Starling_ ’s, but there’s no reason to tell Vane that.

He places both hands on the table and leans forward abruptly. Hope feels her eyes widen as she assesses the threat and she quickly schools her expression. Vane’s voice drops to a near-whisper that puts her in mind of a cat’s purr. "My turn to ask the questions. Who else knows that your crew had my black?"

She leans forward as well, close enough to take in details of the trinkets braided into his long hair. "As far as I know, nobody." She keeps her voice as low as his, matter-of-fact. "My crew hasn't bragged, because they didn't get a chance to parade your colors on the beach. I made certain of that. And they won't now, not after I've relieved them of it. The ones who took your black are young and foolish. I've revoked their shore privileges for the time being, until they can show they won’t be shitheads to other crews if they come into town." Oh, they hadn't liked it at all, being returned to the _Starling_ to assist the carpenters with some much-needed repairs to the ship while their brothers celebrated the take in Nassau, but they stopped complaining when Hope explained in a reasonable tone that the alternative was approaching Vane themselves to return his black. Or perhaps they wished for Vane to seek them out?

Vane’s expression turns pensive for a moment as he mulls over what she told him. "They know you're returning it to me?"

Hope forces herself to continue to meet that intense blue stare. "Yes. If they don't like it, they can elect a new quartermaster. However, they agreed when I explained my reasoning as to why keeping it would not be in their best interests."

"And DeGroot. Does he know why you asked him to arrange a meeting?"

"He didn't ask. I didn't tell." She lets out a laugh at the memory of DeGroot’s dismayed yet proud expression when he thought she was going to work for his captain’s foremost rival. “I let him think I'm here to ask you for a job, just to irritate him."

A long moment passes as she watches Vane weigh his options. Has she convinced him?

He pushes the purse back across the table to Hope. "Keep it. Buy the next round and we'll call it square."


End file.
